Multi-Mass Effect Crossover
by Mightier Than The Sword123
Summary: Kinda what it says in the title really, this is primarily a Mass Effect/Star Wars crossover, but there will be stuff from other franchises. It's best to go into this with a good background knowledge of mainly Mass Effect, although some for Star Wars would help also. In the timeframe of the story, the Mandalorian War, and subsequent Jedi Civil War never happened.
1. Chapter 1: First Step

Titus leaned back in his chair, taking a slurp of his drink. For a moment, he regarded it thoughtfully. The thick drink was a dark yellow, and Titus was sure that any of the dingy bar's patrons would assume that it was some noxious alcoholic mixture that would strip the paint off a starfighter. It was, in fact, Orange juice. Freshly squeezed, as it happened, the bartender had been trying out a new juicer.

Setting the juice down on the wobbly table, Titus flipped the visor of his helmet down, and sent a command through his omni-tool, the glowing gauntlet encircling his left hand and wrist for a moment as he pressed the glowing keys. He sat straight in his chair as a flashing message flickered across his vision, informing that it was connecting, and to please wait. The message faded, and the figure of a middle-aged man began to appear on the other side of the table, the AR module of his communicator making it appear that his friend was seated before him. The man glanced at him, raising an eyebrow in silent questioning. Titus smirked:

"We're in luck. I have found us an assignment."

"Cargo?" The older man was studying something on his end of the transmission, right hand disappearing as he fiddled with something out of the camera's view.

"Nope. Passengers."

"Hmm. How many?"

"Three. A man, two women. They seemed nice. Well spoken, spoke English."

"What's our fee?"

"5000 Republic Credits up front, with 10 000 more at the destination"

The older man tsked.

"Fat lot of good that'll be this deep in the Terminus."

"And" said Titus pointedly:

"A 150Kg crate of fresh fruit and veg."

The older man looked up and made an appreciative sound.

"Nice. I was getting fed up of these supplements you got. Where're we taking them?"

"Arcadia. Apparently they got stranded out here, somehow. They sent the first half of the payment out as soon as we shook on it, should be arriving in the docking bay any minute."

The older man glanced at something off screen.

"Yup, droid's loading it now. I think I can see your new chums as well. Is one of the women really short?"

"Yeah. The other two are really tall, man's blond, woman's skinny."

"Looks about right." He glanced across the controls for a moment, then jabbed a button.

"I'm letting them in. When are you going to be back?"

Titus glanced at the level of juice left in his glass.

"About ten minutes. Warm the engines up."

The other man nodded and cut the transmission. Titus scooped up his drink, and downed the last of it in one gulp. He looked around the dim interior of the bar, working small pieces of fruit out of his teeth with the point of his tongue. His attention was drawn by a tall man moving through the bar's entrance. The man wore a heavy looking black cloak, and his face was shadowed from the bar's weak lights by his hood.

Titus sat up, a growing sense of unease prompting him to close his helmet, the cool durasteel sealing around him. Through the visor's darksun filter, he could see the metal mask under the man's hood, carved in an exaggerated skull shape. Titus saw a gauntleted hand disappear into the folds of the thick cloak, and emerge with a metal cylinder clasped in it.

By now, the less-inebriated patrons of the bar had taken notice of the new arrival, and were studying him carefully, several glancing between him and each other, as if wondering if someone was going to do something.

A metal thumb moved, and a pillar of crimson energy burst from the cylinder, casting the cloaked man in a strange twilight. The blade emitted a low thrum as the wielder held it away from himself, the red light from the blade seeming to highlight the room's shadows. Behind him, a dozen more bloodshine blades burst from the darkness, revealing their wielders filling the doorway.

Titus darted forwards, vaulting over the table, and sprinting for the bar as the bladewielders charged into the room. He leapt over the bar top, heedless of the screams and gunfire coming from behind him. Squirming through the narrow corridor behind the bar, Titus burst through the flimsy door, and out into Omega proper.

At once, he realised that the situation was worse than he had thought. Above him, the foggy skies were choked with smoke. Something plummeted out from the haze, and smashed into a habitation block with an explosion that made Titus flinch. All around him, the station was at war, sleek solar winged fighters zipped through the tight corridors of ramshackle buildings, ion trails so bright it looked like they were trailing string. Maniples of war droids marched through the streets, blasting apart anyone who tried to slow them down. Bars of red light told of more bladewielders urging their troops onwards.

Titus ducked behind a building, switching on his omni-tool's communicator on and speaking into it quickly:

"Jingles-"

"I know." The older man's voice was calm, but tight.

"I've locked the docking bay, we're waiting on you."

Titus free hand went to his hip, drawing his blaster pistol and silently cursing himself for not bringing his rifle.

"Roger that." He closed the link and sprinted out into the narrow streets, ducking and weaving through tight alleyways; occasionally pressing himself into dark corners and behind piles of junk to avoid detection, glancing periodically at the AR line on the floor that would lead him back to the ship.

After a short amount of time, the line told him that there was only a short way to go, but as Titus ducked out from behind a dumpster, he saw his path was blocked by a heavily armoured trooper clutching a massive blaster rifle.

Titus grimaced; even his set of Republic Army armour couldn't repel firepower of that magnitude. He ducked back down and holstered his pistol, this would take two hands. After a moment's fiddling with his omni-tool's flash-fabricator, he stood back up. The trooper noticed him and raised his gun. Titus' arm snapped out, and the omni-bow attachment fired a single bolt at the trooper. The glowing projectile struck the trooper's rifle, and then exploded as the pocket of tibanna gas within the bolt ruptured.

The trooper reeled backwards, burned and stunned, his rifle shattered into pieces. Titus charged, snatching his pistol from his hip and drilling shots into the trooper's head and neck, trying to hit the weak point of his visor. One of the shots found its mark, and the trooper dropped. Titus leapt over the body and looked around for a moment, heart leaping at the letters stencilled on the wall before him. Docking bay 1138.

He dashed forwards and ducked into the sealed doorway. A flick of his wrist brought his omni-tool to life, and he spoke quickly and quietly:

"I'm here. Open up." The shutter jerked for a moment, then rattled noisily upward. Titus waited for a second, and then ducked through. He glanced backwards, and his heart leapt with fright as he saw four more of the troopers running for the docking bay, with a masked bladewielder close behind. Evidently, the trooper had not been the only one nearby.

"Shut the door!" Titus sprinted for the ship sitting in the centre of the hangar, the shutter closing with a percussive bang behind him. He stopped for a second at the foot of the ramp, looking back at the durasteel shutter. The tip of a red blade was cutting through the thick plates like it was cheese, rivulets of molten metal running in glowing strings.

Heart in his mouth, Titus sprinted up the ramp and dashed through the interior of the ship, shouting for Jingles to take off. The three passengers looked up at him with eyes like saucers as he ran past. The ship rocked beneath him as Jingles fed power into the repulsorlifts, raising the craft into the air and rotating it to face the massive hangar doors. Titus skidded into the cockpit, looking from Jingles to the doors, which were remaining resolutely shut. Jingles reached over and flicked a switch,

"Strap yourself in. This is going to be rough."

As Titus struggled to fit the straps of the co-pilot's chair around his armour, the freighter's missile hardpoint deployed with a series of thunks. Jingles watched as the crosshair aligned on the doors before him. His finger tightened on the trigger.

The doors burst open, fragments of mangled metal spinning out into the void as the escaping atmosphere rushed out. Jingles rammed the throttle open and the craft blasted forwards, the inertial dampener struggling to keep up with the sudden acceleration. The freighter smashed through the hole in the doors, twisted metal scratching at the hull like grasping claws.

Jingles glanced Titus:

"Relay or hyperdrive?"

"Drive." Titus wrenched his helmet off, and switched the co-pilot's station on, pulling a headset on as _Argo_'s systems initialised.

Jingles was rapidly increasing the speed of the ship, and so far the swarms of Ion-drive fighters that surrounded the station were focusing on strafing the outer hab-blocks. What sent Titus' heart into his boots were the three massive starships lazily circling around the station. Bigger than even the titanic Quarian live-ships, at least in length, the three were surrounded by shoals of fighters so large they looked like clouds of glittering dust.

Jingles' words were clipped, but calm:

"ECM jammer online." He pressed a key off to his left-

"Navi-comp warming up. Time until co-ordinates... three minutes."

Titus eyed the clouds of fighters.

"Get us on top of the station; we should be covered up there."

Jingles pulled the craft into a vertical climb, trying to maintain a big enough distance from the station that the fighters would not notice him. Cutting their velocity, he pulled the craft about, plunging it into the shadow cast by the crown of the station. They sat in silence, eyes glued to the fore and aft scopes, waiting to see if anything would come. The navi-computer bleeped steadily, crunching vast numbers in microseconds. Titus spoke quietly:

"We need to warn the republic."

"Agreed."

"I'm not seeing anything from the defence batteries."

"Sabotage?"

"Aria." Titus sounded as if the word tasted sour.

"Blue bitch probably led them here. Wouldn't be surprised if she is going to give the station to them."

"Who're them?"

"No idea. Never seen them before. Reminds me of some old stories I heard about the Republic."

"Can't say I recognise any of those ship-"

A red blaster bolt smashed into the surface before them, kicking a huge plume of pulverised rock into space. The alert enunciator shrieked as Jingles wrenched the throttle open, sending the craft ahead of the next barrage of bolts. Titus looked at the scope, three of the Ion-drive fighters were swooping at them, guns spitting crimson. Argo shot past the edge of the asteroid, then dropped into a plummet, straight towards the swarm of fighters still pummelling the exterior of the station.

Jingles fed all the power he could into the forward shields, the lights dimming as he pulled power from every non-essential system in the ship. The Navi-computer emitted a tone, the hyperdrive was ready.

Laser bolts skipped off the shield as Argo shot past the fighters. They were moving too quickly to get a good shot, and Argo had an extremely narrow target profile from the side. One of the larger fighters was too slow at getting out of the way, and was shattered into pieces by a well-aimed concussion missile.

Argo blasted through the cloud of radioactive gas, and accelerated faster than the eye could see as Jingles triggered the hyperdrive.


	2. Chapter 2: History

Inside the cockpit, the two men sagged slightly in their chairs, adrenaline seeping out of them. Titus pulled his headset off and dropped it on the console before him. He stood up awkwardly, his armour wasn't meant for sitting in for any length of time.

"I need to get out of this shit." He stretched awkwardly,

"Want anything from the galley?"

Jingles shook his head, holding up a bottle of water that he had taped to the side of his console. He glanced up at the swirling tachyon vortex of hyperspace before them.

"Time till Coruscant-"He glanced at the navigation console behind him:

"About two hours. Hopefully we can get there before the fleet from Omega."

Titus nodded and shuffled out of the cockpit. He awkwardly unlatched one of his gauntlets, and began unfastening the rest of his armour.

As he passed what served as Argo's lounge, Titus was startled by the tall blond man looking tentatively out at him.

"FUC-oh, it's you." He relaxed, dumping the discarded pieces of his armour on top of a nearby equipment locker.

"I'd completely forgotten about you three, how are you holding up?"

"We've been better. What's going on?"

Titus chewed his lip.

"Omega was invaded... by something neither I nor Jingles recognise. We're going to Coruscant to try and warn the Republic."

"Jingles?"

"Oh," Titus gestured back to the cockpit with his thumb:

"The old guy. My pilot. He's been in this business for much longer than I have."

Titus glanced over his shoulder, and gestured with his head to the main body of the ship.

"I was going to grab something from the galley. Want to join me?"

The blond man nodded hesitantly, and went to follow Titus as he disappeared into the curving corridor that spiralled through the ship.

Titus scooped his gauntlet off the pile atop the locker, and wormed his hand back into it, grimacing slightly at the clammy feel of the cooling sweat inside the glove.

The two stepped into the cramped galley, stepping carefully to avoid knocking into each other. Titus' eyes roved over the sideboard, before alighting on a metal mug sitting in the drying rack.

He stretched out his gauntleted hand. The mug shivered for a second, then flew to his hand with a clank.

The blond man stared.

"Wha... How did you..."

Turning, Titus smirked, and wriggled his fingers.

"Electromagnets in my glove. Difficult to calibrate properly and they have to be very powerful, but worth it. "

He passed the mug over to the blond man, and knelt down to open a cupboard.

"Lemmie see... Hmmmmm, rehydrated protein, rehydrated protein, and-"

He moved something around with a rustle:

"Oh, half a packet of rehydrated protein."

He stood up.

"What do you say we crack open that crate of fruit and veg you gave us?"

The blond nodded uncertainly, and the two left the darkened galley, making for Argo's cargo bay.

1 hour 40 Minutes later.

Jingles and the other passengers had joined Titus and the blond man in what served as Argo's dining room. The meal of roasted vegetables that Titus had been able to throw together was proving to be an excellent way of calming them down after what had happened in Omega.

Whilst the tall, thin girl was all but silent, the small, vaguely Asian-looking woman was barraging the two spacers with questions.

"So, how did you two meet?"

Titus glanced over at his comrade, but Jingles was tackling a particularly chewy piece of green pepper, so he spoke:

"Both of us used to be in the Alliance's armed forces. I was a marine, Jingles worked aboard a frigate. We met during the Blitz. I and some others were assigned as marines to hold off boarding operations. I and he met, and we arranged to stay in contact after I got transferred out."

Jingles, having overcome the pepper, snorted:

"You make it sound like we were fucking pen-pals."

Titus, who was in the middle of taking a sip of water, giggled.

Smiling shyly, the Asian woman continued:

"That armour of yours doesn't look like Alliance issue, where did you get it?"

"Ah," Titus set his drink down-

"That is a good question. Before I left the marines, I got picked as part of a Systems Alliance force that was going to work with the Republic's Army, as sort of a joint venture kind of thing. It was the Republic's idea, and they really went all-out for us; personalised gear, our own blaster rifles, armour that was tailored to us, you name it. After the venture was over, we got ordered to hand it over to the Alliance, but I had already left by that point, so I managed to hold on to it. "

"Huh." The girl shifted on her chair and speared a piece of squash with her fork. As she raised the piece to her mouth, Titus spoke up.

"So, is this your first time aboard a spacecraft?"

The girl lowered the cucumber, and shook her head.

"No, we were aboard a ship for the trip to Omega."

Titus leaned back in his chair thoughtfully.

"What brings three young humans to a wretched hive of scum and villainy like Omega? Unless the three of you are mercenaries or smugglers?"

The girl shook her head and glanced at her two friends. The tall, thin brunette nodded awkwardly, and the Asian woman turned back to Titus and Jingles, who were both looking on curiously.

"My friend here has a..." the girl paused, struggling to find the right word.

"Condition, which the Alliance can't treat. We were hoping that a cure would exist in the Republic, and we got word that someone who might be able to help was living on Omega. By the time we got there, he was gone. We were going back to Arcadia to try and gather our resources while we figure out what to do next."

Titus had interlaced his fingers, and was looking at the three with an expression of deep thought on his face. He looked sideways at Jingles; the older man was stroking the white/grey fuzz that clung to his chin, an equally thoughtful expression on his face.

Titus spoke first:

"During the joint venture, we got to see some of the republic. Their medical technology is leaps and bounds ahead of ours, something that the Alliance higher-ups are very unhappy with. We even got to interact with some of the Republic's soldiers and the people in charge of them."

He rubbed at his face, as if trying to work the memories free.

"They have this order that is supposed to protect the Republic, although I never actually set eyes on them myself. Judging by the stories I heard, the Republic rank-and-file have a sort of quasi-religious view of them. One guy I was speaking to swore blind that he'd seen one of these people jump out of a thirty-storey building and float down to the ground. Another guy, a Turian I think, said that he saw one of these people bounce a blaster bolt off his hand."

Titus shrugged,

"All utter drivel I suppose. If, however, there is any truth to these stories, Coruscant is supposed to be where the main temple of these people is. "

He looked at the thin girl.

"They might be able to help you."

As if on cue, his and Jingles wristwatches bleeped.

"10 Minute warning." Titus stood, and deposited his empty plate in a nearby waste receptacle.

"We're coming up on Coruscant, you three go and strap yourselves in. The space-lanes around the planet are choked at the best of times."

The others began dumping what remained of their meals and Titus strode over to his armour, freshly cleaned and washed. For a moment he gazed at the suit, then lifted it off its rack and began putting it on.


	3. Chapter 3: Republic at War

The two men sat in Argo's cockpit, securely strapped into their seats. Outside the transparisteel windows, hyperspace swirled past, casting strange half-shadows on their faces. Both of them had eyes fixed on the instruments, counting down the time til realspace reversion.

"10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3...2...1"

The swirling vortex collapsed into a thousand points of light that resolved briefly into the dusty-coloured orb of Coruscant.

Then the orb was blocked out by a drifting hulk a hundred times the size of Argo.

Jingles wrenched the ship into a dive, dropping it below the chunk of wreckage. Proximity alarms screamed as he pulled it around the derelict and straight into what some might describe as hell.

The sky around Coruscant was filled with thousands of the titanic arrowhead-shaped starships which were duelling with starships bearing the eight-spoke symbol of the Republic. Starships thousands of kilometres apart hurled bus-sized packets of radioactive gas at each other at near lightspeed, whilst invisible gnat-clouds of starfighters whirled around them like shoals of glittering fish. Judging by the number of red and white ships floating amid clouds of shattered wreckage, the Republic was close to being overwhelmed.

Jingles flicked a switch and sophisticated sensor algorithms span up, compressing the sprawl outside the viewports into an image that the naked eye could handle. The battleships now appeared practically hull-to-hull, joined by pulsing cables of flame. Turbolaser blasts became swift shafts of light that shattered into prismatic splinters against shields, or bloomed into miniature supernovae that swallowed ships whole.

Argo hovered on the precipice of the immense melee. Titus was the first to speak.

"We were too late."

"Or they attacked here at the same time as Omega."

Titus looked over at his comrade.

"What do we do now?"

Jingles shook his head grimly.

"Nothing we can do lad. Argo's good, but she's not a starfighter. We should-"

Before he could finish, the communicator blared to life.

"To anyone listening to this frequency, this is Jedi Master Javik requesting immediate assistance. The Capital city is being invaded, and the Jedi temple is under bombardment. We need evacuation immediately."

The vaguely African-sounding voice sounded calm but stressed, as though the speaker was trying to hold it together in the face of immense difficulty.

Jingles looked at Titus.

"Well, looks like we have a job to do. Get your gear ready lad, we're going in."

Titus unfastened himself as Jingles turned the inertial dampener up to its maximum setting and sent Argo screaming into the melee, cannons blazing.

5 minutes later. The Jedi Temple.

Javik leapt over a fallen pillar and skidded into cover as another explosion rocked the temple, shaking clouds of dust onto the already-filthy Jedi Master. His ceremonial armour was scored and pitted in many places and still smouldering in one place where a blaster bolt had slipped through his guard. His lightsaber was clenched in one hand, the shimmering blade shining through the dust as he looked around for any others.

A gruff voice called to him over the rumble of the bombardment and sound of collapsing masonry:

"Master, over here!"

Javik's head snapped around, four eyes squinting through the haze. A swirl in the force pushed his head down, and a red blaster bolt smashed into the pillar before him. He wheeled around, raising his sabre into a guard position as a trio of black-armoured troopers trained their guns on him.

He was already exhausted, and wounded, and something was blocking out the living force like a tumour, preventing him from drawing fresh strength.

Javik's hypersensitive Prothean perception saw fingers tightening on triggers, and eyes behind blacked-out visors squinting down sights.

His hand tightened on the hilt of his sabre.

Something leapt from behind him, and hit the ground with such force, Javik stumbled.

A pillar of purple light sprang to life in the massive shape's hands, and clove the lead trooper in two. The others opened fire on the massive shape, but the blade swam through a defensive velocity so fast, Javik lost sight of it snatching red bolts from the air. With a mighty roar, the massive figure charged the troopers, smashing the first aside with a headbutt that Javik felt more than heard. The other was pulled off his feet by an invisible force, and accelerated into the pillar next to Javik with a crunch of pulverised bones.

The towering figure turned to Javik, cocking its head to one side as it approached.

"Master Javik."

The Prothean nodded weakly,

"Master Wrex. I was able to make the transmission, but I cannot be certain anyone heard it. Were your efforts in the archives successful?"

The gigantic Krogan nodded his scarred face.

"Yes. I managed to gather the most valuable holocrons, and sent them with Master Vadamee. He should be able to get them out of the city."

Javik shifted his stance and winced as his wound flared with pain, Wrex noticed.

"Wounded? Master, I thought better of you!" The Krogan gave a barking laugh, then sheathed his sabre and scooped the Prothean into his arms as if he were a child. He glanced about, and then sprinted off towards a side corridor, giant footsteps shaking the ground.

Argo flew vertically down through the Coruscanti sky, a pair of Ion-drive starfighters on its tail. The freighter's twin turret guns spat bolts of red plasma back at them as they hammered its shields, searching for a weak point. In the cockpit, Jingles' fingers were tight about the control stick, pulling the ship into another stomach-clenching spin.

Halfway through the spin, he suddenly cut the engines and wrenched the stick up, sending the ship perpendicular to the fighters. The main body of the ship suddenly became a giant airbrake, and they slowed so suddenly the two fighters shot past. Jingles' hands flew across the controls, arming the ship's two forward-facing guns and pointing the nose back at the two ships. His finger clenched on the stick's trigger.

Argo's two forward-facing guns were actually a pair of stripped-down GARDIAN lasers that ran off the Republic-tech reactor, and were usually found being used as point-defence turrets on Alliance capital ships. Using them on the two unshielded Ion-drive fighters was, to put it simply, overkill.

The two fighters exploded into clouds of flame and shattered metal, which Argo flew straight through.

Jingles pulled the nose up sharply, his vision darkening and his head spinning as blood struggled to reach his head. His hands trembled on the controls, struggling to hold the craft steady.

Looking through the viewport, he could see the city rushing past at mindbreaking speed, warehouses and factories and homes stretching into a blur.

Ahead, he could see the large, squat form of the Jedi Temple before him. Massive plumes of smoke climbed into the ruined sky from the building, which looked closer to collapse with each passing moment. Turbolaser blasts dropped from the sky, smashing into the city and toppling buildings like matchsticks.

More of the Ion-drive starfighters whirled around, strafing the cityscape indiscriminately.

Several of them took notice of Argo, still dodging between collapsing buildings as fast as its pilot could pull on the controls.

Seeing his scopes lighting up with target locks, Jingles drew whatever power Argo could give, and put it into the main engine.

The craft began to vibrate as the craft accelerated, the world outside turning into a blur.

Jingles' vision darkened as the Gs mounted. Glancing to his left, he saw the Ion-Drive fighters struggling to keep up, straining their engines to keep up with Argo.

The shaking grew worse, rattling Jingles' teeth together as he fought to stay conscious.

Jingles felt his consciousness slipping away, and his left hand hovered over the airbrake lever. The two fighters were still trying to keep up, although their frames were never built for this kind of atmospheric speed.

The shaking redoubled, and Jingles feared his craft was about to break up.

His hand touched the lever.

_BOOM_

The craft rocked with the force of the sonic boom. The two fighters broke off, fighting to regain control. Jingles pulled down on the lever, and gasped as the declaration flung him forwards, pulling the straps on his chair tight.

His vision tunnelled, turning red as the blood rushed to his head. He dimly glimpsed the temple ahead, approaching far too fast.

As he struggled to bring the speed down, Jingles felt someone slip into the co-pilot's station. The load on him began to lessen as the other person took control.

Argo coasted to a gentle stop just outside the temple entrance, repulsorlifts whipping the clouds of dust into tornadoes.

Titus, fully equipped for an outright battle, leapt from the open hatch and rolled as he hit the ground, bringing his blaster rifle up and scanning the surroundings for any targets. Satisfied that he was clear, at least for now, he keyed his comlink:

"If I can get to the Jedi, we'll need extraction. Stay in the vicinity and try and warm me if anything's coming."

"Roger that."

In Argo's cockpit, the skinny brunette looked curiously at Jingles from the co-pilot's seat. He had mostly recovered from the near red-out he had experienced, but he still felt a little dizzy and the girl seemed to know how to operate the ship well enough, if her last-minute save was any indication.

As Titus disappeared into the temple's interior, Argo peeled off; searching for a spot where the perpetual dogfight going on above wouldn't reach it.


	4. Chapter 4: Desecration

Titus dashed into the cool of the Temple interior, the battle outside muted to a low rumble by the thick stone of the building.

Thick clouds of dust filled the entrance hall, and Titus changed his helmet's visor mode with a flick of his wrist, omni-tool flashing briefly.

Pausing at an intersection, Titus mused for a moment on which direction to take. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of blasterfire, coming from somewhere nearby. Pulling his rifle up to his shoulder, he ran in the direction of the sound.

Skidding around a corner, he saw a trio of black-armoured troopers standing with their backs to him, where the corridor opened up into a much wider room. They were shooting at something in the room, heedless of Titus' arrival.

Titus brought his blaster rifle up to his shoulder, sighted down the barrel, then squeezed the trigger.

The first burst caught a trooper in the back, blowing out his chest cavity and knocking him down the steps into the room. The other two wheeled about, trying to bring their guns to bear.

Titus shot the second in the head, turning the trooper's helmet into a smoking ruin.

The third caught a burst to the chest, the shots blasting holes in armour and cooking flesh with superheated steam from deep-tissue hits.

The trooper fell on his back with a definitive crash that Titus found somehow satisfying.

Lowering his gun, Titus dashed past the steaming corpses and into the room.

At the centre stood a positively gigantic alien, a Krogan, if Titus remembered correctly. Several spots of its robes bore smouldering holes, but the scaly flesh within seemed uninjured.

Titus' attention was abruptly drawn to the thrumming bar of purple plasma that burst from the creature's fist, painfully similar to the crimson blades of the cloaked figures on Omega.

Prising his eyes from the creature's weapon, Titus pulled off his helmet with his free hand and spoke quickly.

"I got your distress call; I'm here to rescue you!"

The Krogan levelled the weapon at him, and spoke with a voice that rumbled like an avalanche:

"What is a human doing in Republic armour?"

Confused by the alien's strange priorities, Titus shook his head:

"I'll tell you later, my ship is waiting."

Mercifully, the alien nodded, and the purple blade shrank to nothing in his fist, and the metal cylinder was then clipped to the alien's belt.

As the Krogan turned, Titus became aware of another alien, one he didn't recognise, half-lying on the floor. One of its hands was tightly clamped to a scorched patch of robe at its midriff, and it seemed woozy, not protesting when the Krogan scooped it up in his arms.

Titus turned, and replacing his helmet, running back the way he had come, Krogan stomping close behind.

Halfway through the corridor to the entrance hall, Titus' omni-tool chimed, indicating an incoming message. Without stopping, he opened the channel.

"Jingles?"

"Trouble. There's a ship deorbiting, a Hammerhead, I think. It's going to hit the city about a Kilometre away, and when it does, its drives will go up like a nuclear bomb."

Titus guts clenched, and he swallowed before replying:

"How long?"

"About 6 minutes, and that's assuming the wind's against it."

Titus gulped.

"Roger that." He turned to the Krogan:

"DOUBLE TIME IT! WE'VE GOT MINUTES!"

The Krogan quickened his pace, the vibration of his steps nearly throwing Titus off-balance as he rushed past. Seized by a sudden fear that he would be left behind, Titus swung his rifle onto his back and sprinted after the Krogan, breath coming hard through his helmet as the Krogan disappeared into the entrance hall.

He was so focused on his flight, he crashed straight into the Krogan's back, knocking the gigantic alien forwards a step. Peering around the Krogan's bulk, he saw the reason for the halt.

Eight of the cloaked bladewielders, red blades deepening the shadows inside their hoods.

The Krogan gently lowered the wounded alien down, making sure he had his balance before letting go. Titus immediately stepped forwards, putting one of the alien's arms around his shoulder, and taking his weight.

"Take him, trooper. This is my fight."

The Krogan stepped forwards, purple blade re-appearing in his fist.

Titus pressed his omni-tool with his free hand.

"Jingles, now would be good."

"Where are you?"

"Entrance hall."

Titus was distracted by a buzzing sound from behind him.

He turned and nearly walked into a humming red blade, barely being held back by the Krogan's purple blade. Before his horror could quite sink in, the Krogan stepped forwards and swatted the bladewielder away.

The others stepped in as Titus scrambled backwards, the Krogan holding them back with hammer-like blows from his weapon.

A frantic glance over the wounded alien's shoulder, towards the Temple's entrance, showed a squad of black-armoured troopers rushing to join their masters.

Titus stood frozen with terror, heedless of the cracks and sizzling sounds from behind him, attention fixed on the troopers skidding to a halt, bringing weapons to bear-

CRASH

The temple shook as Argo ploughed through the wall, starting an avalanche of shattered masonry that crushed two of the troopers straight away. The others dived for cover as the dorsal cannon opened up, blasting chunks out of the floor and turning one of the troopers into giblets with a direct hit.

The hatch banged open as the transport hovered low before Titus, not quite able to believe what was going on.

His omni-tool crackled to life:

"COME ON, YOU DOZEY FUCK! DO YOU _WANT_ TO STAY HERE?!"

Jingles' shout snapped Titus out of his trance, and he bolted towards Argo, practically dragging the wounded alien along with him. Blaster bolts from the surviving troopers skipped off the freighter's shields. At the mouth of the ramp, the short Asian girl and the blonde man waited, pulling the wounded alien from Titus' leaden arms as soon as they could reach him, before carrying the unconscious alien inside Argo.

The transport began to lift off, Titus sprinting up the ramp, before the ship slammed to a halt with a jerk that nearly pitched Titus over the side.

Seizing one of the ramp's supports, Titus looked around for the source of the halt.

One of the black-cloaked warriors was extending his hands towards the freighter, as though he was holding Argo in place.

For a strange moment, Titus would've sworn that was exactly what was happening.

A purple fan flared through the warrior's midriff, and he slumped forwards, bisected at the waist. The ship lurched forwards again and began to rise, Titus clinging to the ramp support for dear life.

With a supreme effort, he hauled himself up and dashed inside, just before the craft boosted forwards, out the Temple entrance, and up into the turbulent sky.


	5. Chapter 5: Blood, Fire and Revelation

Wrex was dying. He had realised his death when he had engaged the Sith warriors eight-to-one. He had realised it, accepted it, and vowed to make them work for it.

The seven survivors crowded about him now, raining blows from all sides. Anaerobic poisons were building up in his muscles, turning his mighty arms to cloth. He had taken more wounds than he cared to count, their lightsabers carving deep gouges into his hard flesh. Heat from the wounds told him that his Krogan metabolism was trying to heal him, but he had used up too much of his reserves already, it was a pointless effort.

A lunge slipped past his guard, and a red blade stabbed deep into his shoulder. The warrior holding the other end of the sabre let slip a wild laugh, and the others joined in, their dark glee spreading through the force like droplets of blood falling into water.

This irked Wrex.

He let his sabre fall from nerveless fingers, purple shrinking away to nothing; it would be no more help now anyway. His hand closed about the hilt of the sabre sticking into his shoulder, and pulled the warrior forwards. The other hand closed around the warrior's throat, the laughter choking off as the Sith's trachea collapsed.

He threw the body into the other Sith, distracting them for the crucial moment it took him to find that which dwelt within all Krogan, what had let them survive the worst of what the universe could throw at them. Tuchanka's gift to her children.

The Blood Rage.

Wrex's secondary heart jolted into life, powering stimulants through his veins. His vision tunnelled, focussing on the warriors that stood before him, still reeling from their comrade's death. His feet pounded on the floor as he charged, screaming a wordless warcry.

He crashed into the first warrior with the force of a mountain dropped from the edge of space, sending him flying backwards, bones turned to gravel. Another was struck by a fist that turned his face into a crater, blood and bits of brain flying in all directions.

Wrex looked around wildly for his next target, but his momentum was gone, and the others closed in again, lightsabers carving chunks from his torso.

A red blade flicked out, slicing open the back of his knees, sending him to the ground, though he was able to drag the warrior who had hamstrung him down too. A single blow from a mighty fist turned the warrior's head into a smear on the marble floor, but it was in vain. Red lightsabers stabbed into his back over and over, orange blood splashing on the floor. Mist started to close in at the edges of his vision.

A deep boom from outside the temple brought the evisceration to a momentary halt.

Feeling as though the entire universe was on his back, Wrex pushed himself up, enough that he could look in the same direction as the Sith Warriors, out the Temple entrance. What he saw brought a smile to his bloody lips.

A burning Hammerhead frigate was falling from the sky and had smashed through a skyscraper. As they watched, it hit the ground.

The flash was so bright, the Warrior's robes burst into flames, sending them reeling; shrieking and clawing at themselves in vain.

Wrex let himself fall, eyelids drooping. For a moment, he looked at the immense conflagration roaring towards him, and smiled, remembering the words told to him at the very beginning of his tutelage.

_There is no death, there is the force._

He closed his eyes.

Darkness and flame took him.

Titus staggered through Argo's interior after the wounded alien, shouting directions to the medbay over the sound of Jingles weaving through the massive dogfight.

As they passed the column at the centre of the ship, the skinny brunette ducked out of a side room, trying to struggle past them. The deck gave a massive lurch beneath them, hurling them into the air.

They landed back on the deck in a tangle of limbs and pained cries. The wounded Jedi had landed on top of the brunette, and had been jerked awake. Titus was the first up, and staggered over to help, but was given pause by what he saw was happening.

The Jedi was gripping the girl by the chin with one hand, holding her head steady as he pressed the fingers of the other hand into her left temple, as though he was trying to push them through her skull. The girl's hands were tight on his wrists, but she was making no effort to pull him off. The Jedi was staring into her eyes with all four of his, concentration focussed like a laser beam.

Titus touched his arm, and the alien jolted, as though Titus had electrocuted him. He stood shakily and collapsed backwards into Titus, who seized hold of him.

The girl seemed practically catatonic, and was hauled to her feet by her friends, before being dragged after Titus as he ran for the medbay.

Once, there he deposited the Jedi on the bio-bed, and began readying an oxygen mask, no way he was attempting to intubate an IV with his hands and the ship shaking so badly.

"Girl!" The Jedi attempted to sit up, pointing at the brunette as Titus pushed him back down.

"Your name! Tell me your name!"

The girl stared, stunned.

"The force is within you human, tell me your name!"

This effort seemed to exhaust him, and he flopped back bonelessly, allowing Titus to attach the mask.

Titus turned to the girl, wrenching off his helmet, eyes wide with adrenaline.

"Well?! Tell him!"

The girl opened and closed her mouth wordlessly, seeming paralysed with shock.

"TELL HIM!"

Silence.

"TEll-"

"MY! NAME! IS! JACK!"

The girl slumped against her friends, as though the cry had drained the strength from her.

"Jack. My name is Jack."


	6. Chapter 6: Dark Crusade

_This isn't an invasion, it's a crusade._

In his slumber, Javik's mind wandered, listening to the sounds echoing through the force.

_It's a black rock, terraforming never took._

Some of the voices he recognised, many he had never heard before. Abruptly, he heard his own voice-

_The weapon of a Jedi knight, drawn in anger far too often in these times._

-then it was gone. He cast his mind about, trying to move closer to the voices, so that he could hear more clearly.

- _Strange name for armour. Would've thought it'd be better for a ship or-_

Javik's eyelids fluttered, with them closed he could only hear; but if he opened them to see, he risked waking from the trance.

-_Is the key to this. We find him, the war's over._

Desperate now, Javik's eyes half opened. Part of him saw the ceiling of the medical room he was in, but his mind's eye saw a man fall from a tank of thick gold sludge. The view was from behind, so Javik could not see the man's face, but he could still hear:

_How do you feel?_

A human female's voice. Strangely accented, but Javik could not recognise the exact accent.

_I feel..._

Javik felt himself rising through consciousness, but the man was turning around.

_Ready. For anything._

The man was turning, Javik was so close...

He caught a flash of a reflective visor-

His eyes snapped wide open.

He gasped, sucking in air from the oxygen mask still strapped to his face. For a moment he batted at his face with his hands, then pulled the mask off.

Sitting up on the narrow bio-bed, he became aware of an IV line sticking out of his arm. Squinting through the darkened medbay, his eyes alighted on a stand for the bag.

Cautiously, he stood up, feeling his midriff for where the blaster bolt had struck him. His gently questing fingers felt soft bandages, and he relaxed slightly.

Pulling the bag of fluid off its hook, Javik was careful to keep it elevated as he hung it on the stand.

He looked about the room, again, and spotted a datapad lying on the bedside table. He scooped it up and woke the screen with a tap of a finger. After a moment cycling through menus he activated the notepad feature and began typing down everything he had just seen and heard. Already, parts of it were fading, dissolving under scrutiny.

Sometime later, Javik stabbed the save icon, and looked over what he had written. There seemed to be woefully little of it, but he could not help that.

Switching the pad off and returning it to the table, Javik stood. For a moment he swayed, oxygenated blood struggling to climb to his brain.

As the dizziness faded, he was seized by another thought. The girl, Jack. When he had touched her before, he couldn't believe what he had felt. The living force was strong within the girl. The Prothean shook his head; a force-sensitive human had never been encountered before, at least not by the Jedi.

He needed to learn more.

Memories of the past day continued to filter back into the Prothean's head as he cautiously moved about the room, seeing how far he could go before dizziness forced him back to the bed.

He remembered the flight from the Temple, and the feeling of Master Wrex's passing, like an icicle being plunged into his spine. This was what had finally knocked him out.

The ghost of a feeling stirred within him.

Fear.

Fear that the other Jedi may not have been as fortunate as he in their escape from the Temple. Fear that he might be the only Jedi still left.

Javik quashed the feeling. He would know if he were the only Jedi left.

Satisfied that he could move without risk of fainting, Javik walked to the medbay's door, IV stand trundling behind him. He paused on the threshold, feeling that he was missing something, but uncertain as to what it was.

He turned, and scanned the room again, before realising with a tinge of embarrassment what he had missed.

A faint smile crossed his thin lips as he stepped over to the dresser and scooped his lightsaber off the top.

Stuffing the ornate device in his pocket, Javik opened the hatch and walked through.

As he walked through the cosy interior of the ship, he could hear voices coming from the nose of the ship over the muted hum of the ship's systems, presumably coming from the cockpit.

_Any news?_

_Caught a Republic Army transmission. Not good. 1st fleet's regrouping at somewhere called Tython, along with all the Jedi that made it off Coruscant. 2nd and 3rd fleets are in ruins, they're falling back to Anaxes. Alliance government's in emergency session, they're at Saber Three readiness._

Intrigued, Javik quickened his pace, careful not to push himself too far and collapse.

Closer to the cockpit, the voices became more audible, and Javik was able to differentiate between them.

The softer, older voice spoke again.

_Punch up the galaxy map, I want to see something._

A clicking sound, then the noise of a holo-projector spinning up.

_Can you have it show the war situation?_

A pause.

_That's odd._

_Agreed. They've completely ignored the member worlds in the Terminus, and bypassed most of the Core worlds completely._

_Yeah, I see that._

_This isn't an invasion, it's a crusade._

Javik froze.

_We need to talk to the Jedi about this._

_The ones at this Tython place, or sleeping beauty back there?_

_Both, eventually. But four-eyes first. _

Javik paused just outside the open hatch to the cockpit, and readying his most withering of glares (the one he used on younglings who interrupted his meditation), he stepped into the cockpit.

The two men studying the hologram failed to acknowledge him at first, an act that deflated Javik's mood somewhat, but the younger man noticed the Prothean's reflection in the tinted durasteel viewport and rotated his chair around.

"Speak of the devil! How's the wound?"

Javik's hand unconsciously reached down to touch the patch of bandages where the blaster bolt had hit him.

"Better."

The younger man nodded.

"Yeah, it looked worse than it was. Looks like whatever your robes were made of soaked up the worst of the heat, what was left wasn't strong enough to get very far through your carapace."

He gestured to the hologram behind his head:

"I assume you heard?"

Javik nodded, awkwardly sitting down in the navigator's chair, and rotating it to face the two men.

"Where are we going?"

The older man spoke, looking at the navigation console behind Javik;

"Away from Coruscant, we're at half speed thanks to all the gravitational anomalies this deep in the Core."

He gestured at his co-pilot:

"Me and Titus were trying to decide where to go."

Javik pursed his lips thoughtfully.

"You say the Jedi are regrouping at Tython?"

Titus nodded:

"Yes, we caught a transmission from the Home Fleet Command ship as we were leaving Coruscant's gravity well. They were pulling out. Coruscant belongs to the invaders now."


	7. Chapter 7: Unprecedented

"The Sith."

Titus looked at Javik.

"You know of these people?"

Javik scowled.

"The Sith we speak of are not a people. They are an ideology, a culture. We thought their Empire was destroyed, centuries ago."

The older man was studying a console as Javik spoke, his frown deepening. He looked up as Javik paused.

"There's no world called Tython on any of our charts, Republic or Alliance."

Javik gave a thin smile.

"I am not surprised. Tython is the ancient homeworld of the Jedi order; it has been abandoned for millennia, its location is only found on the very oldest of Jedi holocrons."

His smile widened.

"The holocrons that I had sent out of the Jedi Temple when the attack began, as a matter of fact. As the Jedi have reached Tython, they must have escaped with the location."

Titus was impassive.

"Right, so the knowledge of the location of this ancient world... is at the ancient world. Brilliant. Any other bright ideas?"

Javik's smile vanished as quickly as it had appeared, replaced with his scowl.

"I am a Prothean. My people possess the ability to learn everything about a person or an object by touch. It is how I learnt to speak your language from the girl Jack."

Titus leaned forwards:

"Yes, I was meaning to ask you about her-"

Javik waved a hand;

"Later. First, Tython's location."

He turned to the navigator's station and began punching in co-ordinates at an incredible rate.

While he worked, Titus and Jingles were left in an uncomfortable silence, trying to think of something to say.

Jingles was the one to speak first.

"You say Tython is the birthplace of the Jedi. What..._are_ the Jedi?"

Javik paused, then turned around.

"That is a very good question. The Jedi of today are the protectors of the Republic. Whilst the Army and Navy protect the Republic's worlds and people, we protect its spirit."

He sat back in his chair and frowned, rubbing his chin.

"For what the Jedi do to make any sense, I need to tell you about the Force."

Titus glanced at Jingles, then back at Javik.

"Go on."

"The force..." Javik paused:

"It is an energy field, created by all living things. It surrounds us, penetrates us, it binds the universe together."

Titus shot Jingles a look that Javik was quick to catch, and delivered a withering glare before going on:

"The Force guides those sensitive to it, and those sensitive to it can manipulate the energy. Jedi serve the Force, and try to understand and follow its guidance; whilst the Sith..."

The scowl returned.

"They are anathema. They leech off the force like parasites, perverting its power to serve themselves."

"And they are the ones attacking the Republic?"

"Yes. They must have been rebuilding. Hiding while we grew complacent, assured of our victory."

He hit the confirm key on the navicomputer, and sat back in his chair.

As the ship shifted through the swirling madness of hyperspace, the three sat in silence, deep on thought.

Jingles spoke:

"So, what's the deal with the girl?"

Javik leaned back, pursing his lips thoughtfully.

"When I touched her back there, I could feel the living force within her. It is present in all living things to some extent, but it is especially strong in force-sensitives."

He frowned:

"There has never been a force-sensitive human before. The greatest minds of the Order assumed that such a thing was impossible."

Struck by a sudden thought, he stood up sharply, the other two standing as well.

"There is one way that I know of that could tell us for certain."

He walked out of the cockpit, the two men following as closely as they could without tripping over the IV stand.

Javik walked quickly to the medbay, opened the door and stepped in. He moved to the equipment cabinet and began rifling through the drawers. He looked up at the two men hovering in the doorway:

"Is this ship equipped with a chromatograph?"

Titus nodded, and walked inside, hauling the machine out of a cupboard and switching it on as Javik prepared a sterile syringe kit.

Seeing that Titus was finished, Javik readied the syringe kit and left the medbay, Jingles and Titus following close behind.

He paused in the central corridor, looking from left to right.

"Where is the girl?"

"Crew quarters." Said Titus:

"She needed a lie down; it's first on the right."

Javik set off at a determined pace, ducking through the hatchway into the crew quarters mere moments later.

From the set of bunk beds built into the wall came the sounds of steady breathing. Javik and the two men approached cautiously, not wanting to startle the young woman.

As they approached, the dark form lying on the narrow bed rolled over with a rustle of shifting sheets. Dark brown eyes watched them, wide with terror. The girl quivered at the sight of them, tall Titus in hard armour, lean, tense Jingles, and the bare-chested Prothean holding the syringe.

Seeing the look on Jack's face, Javik closed his eyes and focussed, projecting his mediator's calm through the force, onto the girl.

When he opened them again, the quivering had stopped, but Jack's eyes were fixed on him.

Javik held out his empty hand:

"Hold out your arm, child."

Eyes still fixed on Javik, a pale arm slid out from under the covers. The Prothean turned it over, exposing the soft flesh on the inside, criss-crossed with ridged scars.

Jingles made a soft sound, but the others remained silent as Javik pressed the business end of the injector to the inside of the arm's elbow joint. Jack shivered as the ampoule filled rapidly with crimson liquid. Javik pulled the injector away, pressing a readied patch of gauze to the mark he had left and taping it to the arm.

Without a word, he strode from the room, leaving Jingles and Titus looking at Jack and wondering what to do. Titus made up his mind and left Jingles in the crew quarters, following Javik back to the medbay.

There, he found the Prothean fiddling with the chromatograph, the blood sample sticking out of a port in the top.

"What are you looking for?"

"Midichlorians. In ages past, the Jedi believed that these were what connected an individual to the force, and what allowed them to utilize it."

He gave Titus a side-long glance.

"But we are much wiser now. They seem to be a by-product of an individual interacting with the force, something which all force-sensitives do, willingly or not."

Before Titus could reply, the machine chimed.

Javik glanced at the read-out and nodded.

"As I thought. As if I needed further confirmation. The girl is connected to the living force."

He turned, and speared Titus with his gaze.

"I need to speak to the other members of the Jedi council, assuming any of them are still alive. It is imperative that we reach Tython; can this ship go any faster?"

Titus shrugged;

"I'll speak to Jingles, but our understanding of the hyperdrive on this thing is limited at best. Considering the Republic's embargo with the Alliance, we're not really supposed to have it at all."

He moved past Javik, heading back to the crew quarters, leaving the Jedi deep in thought.


	8. Chapter 8: Tython

Chapter 8: Tython

Argo reverted to realspace at the edge of the planet's gravity well. From the cockpit, Jingles took in the pleasant blue-green world before them. Above and around it lay the Republic core worlds fleet. What was left of it anyway, the first and third fleets were at half strength, and the second had been all but annihilated.

The enunciator screeched in Jingles' ear and the display lit up with warnings; target locks, fighter squadrons being scrambled and several overdue library books of Titus'.

Jingles reached over and pressed the intercom, before forcing the Estuary out of his accent and putting on his best RP.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and variations thereupon, this is your captain speaking. We have arrived at our destination, the planet Tython. Would all Jedi passengers please proceed to the cockpit, and call off your trigger-happy colleagues please. All other passengers please return to your seats, and fasten your seatbelts. Considering the high probability of death at this moment, if you have any regrets, please feel free to pray for absolution. Thank you."

He released the button and sat back just as Javik ducked into the cockpit. Divested of his bandages, the Prothean was back in his ceremonial armour, minus the mangled plate where he had been shot, and generally looked much healthier.

He picked the co-pilot's headset off its terminal, and pressed one of the headphones to what passed as his ear, whilst lining the microphone up with his mouth.

For a second, his hand played over the controls, adjusting the frequency, then he spoke.

"This is Jedi master Javik, Temple Identification code 1337-XAH. Break off your attack on this ship immediately."

The icons projected onto the cockpit's viewports that represented the flight of fighters closing on them continued on their path for a moment, then broke away.

The comlink crackled to life.

"This is the Republic Command Ship _Courageous_. We are sending the co-ordinates for the planetary landing site to you, Argo. The other Jedi will be glad to see you, Master Javik, precious few Jedi were able to escape Coruscant."

"Thank you _Courageous. _Javik out."

He dropped the headset and left without another word, leaving Jingles to gaze out of the window at the planet before them.

Argo swooped low over the thick jungle, ahead; an ancient stone tower stabbed the sky from out of the sea of green. Around the temple, a wide clearing had been made in the jungle, the tan dirt like a wound blasted into the undulating green.

The space was filled with Republic ships; fighters, transports, even a pair of Hammerhead frigates. Tents were pitched haphazardly around the clearing, crammed into every spare inch of space. Between them, beings from every species that was joined to the Republic thronged, some moving with purpose; gathering supplies, or performing headcounts, whilst some wandered aimlessly between tents, with some of the more photosensitive beings among them searching for shade.

Argo flew low over this, its repulsorlifts sending ripples across the flimsy tents. Mere metres from the steps of the temple, it stopped and set down, landing legs digging deep into the fresh dirt.

The first to emerge from the ship was Titus. He flinched in pain as the bright sunlight struck his eyes, then took a deep breath. His eyes widened, and a beatific expression crossed his face.

From behind him, Jingles was the next to emerge from the ship, blinking in the sunlight. Titus grabbed his arm:

"Wait a second. Just-"He took a deep gulp of the air;

"Take a deep breath. Or two."

Jingles shot his younger friend a puzzled glance, but took a long sniff. His eyes widened, and he wobbled on his feet.

"That's... wow."

The two men lent against each other for support, taking deep breaths of the clean air.

Javik strode from the ship, ignoring the two men. Jack followed close behind him, glancing nervously at the Temple before them. They disappeared into the cool dark without a word.

Titus heard faint steps behind him, and turned to see the diminutive Asian girl trotting down the ramp. She noticed the two men and paused, noting their condition. Titus smiled dreamily.

"Hello there..."

He frowned.

"I don't think you've actually told me your name. Strange."

The woman's brows knotted.

"Kasumi. What is the matter with you two?"

Titus grinned, and made a wide, sweeping gesture that nearly overbalanced him.

"'It's the air. Me and Jingles here are used to stuff that's been run through a recycler n-million times. The air here is straight from the source, and it's producing a most-"

He took another deep sniff:

"_Invigorating_ effect. We'll be alright in an hour or so. Or we'll go blind from oxygen toxicity."

Kasumi was unmoved.

"I see. What I wanted to ask was-"

She ducked past Titus and looked around at the chaos of the landing site.

"Where Jack went."

The cheer faded from Titus' expression.

"Javik has taken her to meet the Jedi council. Said he needed to see them urgently, and I've a feeling that he didn't want anyone following him."

Kasumi went to speak, but Titus raised a hand.

"I know she's your friend, and that you want to take care of her, but considering what Javik told me, whatever's about that girl is something that neither of us are prepared for."

Kasumi crossed her arms and glared past Titus.

"I'm sick of feeling useless, I've done nothing but be ferried around for the past two days, I need to do something constructive."

Titus turned, and scanned the mustering point with her. He pointed at a small, sleek ship in the shadow of one of the Hammerheads.

"There. That's an asari ship, we can eat their food. Try and barter some supplies off them, I'm going to see if there are any soldiers around here."

"Why?"

"Chances are, if they're here, they managed to survive the pull-out from Coruscant, and might have fought some of those Sith Bladewielders. Hopefully, they might give me a better idea of how to fight them."

"Why should I have to haggle supplies off the aliens? I'd have thought you'd have more experience with that sort of thing."

Titus shook his head, and responded with a faintly sheepish tone:

"I've tried talking with asari before, their kind has never had any kind of interaction with humans, and the ones I spoke with didn't have a very good idea of what to do with me. You're recognisably female, so hopefully that'll relax them a bit."

Kasumi rolled her eyes, but nodded. Retrieving a pair of old-fashioned aviator sunglasses from a pocket, she put them on and began making her way across the hustle and bustle of the landing site.

Titus watched her go, but was distracted by an elbow gently nudging his ribs.

Jingles was watching the temple, an expression of concern on his face.

"You really think she'll be alright with whatshisname- Javik?"

Titus laid a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"She's better off with him than with us."

Jingles looked unconvinced.

"I hope you're right."

"So do I."

AN: Sorry about the delay for this chapter, ran into a bit of writer's block. I think I've got a handle on it now, so hopefully the next chapter will be sooner coming.


End file.
